Saviours
by HeartsOnFireXOXO
Summary: Kurt Hummel falls for new kid Sam Evans almost instantly. What happens from then on is everybody's business and a surefire route to destruction and heartbreak...right?
1. Prologue

Saviours

**Story Warnings: **

**Although this will eventually turn into a cute Kurt/Sam story, it's pretty hard-going. Some warnings in case you're wondering: **

**-Homophobic and sexist language**

**-Mentions of self-harm, suicide and depression**

**-Strong language**

**-Mentions of sexual acts**

**-Violence**

**-Angst (a lot of it towards the beginning)**

**-Derogative language (some)**

* * *

One look was all it took for me. Just one short glance into the bold emerald eyes of his and I was caught. Entrapped in a love that took me completely by surprise. I wasn't ready for the consequences of falling in love with Sam Evans and I certainly wasn't ready for what came next. Sam Evans had to be the most desirable person in the world. He was a walking Adonis with a heart of gold to match. Some thought otherwise, but his impressions only added to his charm and allure. Not every guy needed to be cool and popular. Sam was starting quarterback for the Titans, yes, but his nerdy persona only really came around when in company of the Glee Club. Something about separating the two worlds he was living in. Finn often did the same, but Sam was almost…scared. Like he had demons haunting his mind, stopping him from being himself. I know that something happened to him in his past from the way he acted when certain subjects were brought up. I was the same way. It wasn't hard to figure out that Sam had secrets from his old school, lots of them. What they were, I had no idea. We weren't that close, at the beginning. Then everything spiralled into this epic romance and I had no idea how it had happened. One moment there was me stealing long looks at the man of my dreams from across the room, the next he was looking at me the same way. Some say when you spend enough time around someone, you can learn to love them. Your heart melds into theirs and you feel comforted and safe around them and that blossoms into love. I guess that was what happened to Sam and I. We were nothing and then suddenly we were everything and I couldn't understand how that could be. It all happened so abruptly and there was no way to stop it. We were an asteroid rocketing through galaxies, destined to be set ablaze upon collision, passing only the brightest stars along the way. We somehow became those stars, the one that shone brighter than all the rest. We were a spark in the darkness. We were _love_.

Occasionally, when two people are lucky enough to find each other, they save each other from themselves. Sam saved me and I saved him. From ourselves. Love works in mysterious ways. I don't know why the stars aligned and caused Sam's heart to call to me, but I'm grateful every day I'm with him that he does. Losing him is not an option. He's my be all and end all in life. Extreme? Quite possibly, but that's the way it is. And nobody can tell me otherwise. Love at first sight never used to exist to me, until Sam. I used to think that the entire concept was insane and that people were fooling themselves by falling for someone upon a first glance, but there was me, falling headfirst for such a beautiful boy, longing for him to love me too. Little did I know that he did. He just hadn't known it then. Time carried us through and time was on our side. Every minute spent with Sam was a minute surrounded by the arms of bliss.

This all sounds like perfection, but the journey was not something to aspire to. Neither of us had the easiest of times in life, but we made it through somehow. For each other. I guess it all started in junior year…


	2. Isolation

My head hits the wall with a hard smack for the fourteenth time today. It's getting ridiculous. I can't even move from one class to another without being assaulted by either a football jock or a hockey jock. Both are vicious. The football team are relentless. On my lucky days, the hockey team consider me too inferior to touch, and that leaves me to the football team. As much as the two team constantly attack each other, they conspire when it comes to me. There's no logic involved, just pure hatred. Do they ever think of my feelings? Of course they don't. They're soulless monsters who aren't capable of feeling anything but pejorative emotions.

Homophobia is getting worse at McKinley and, since I'm the only out kid at school, I'm the only target. Weak. Pathetic. Alone. I'm the perfect bulls-eye to aim for. The Glee Club try, but they don't _really_ care. If they paid more attention, they would see that I'm always ten minute late for Glee Club. I remain in my last class of the day for ten minutes to escape the jocks. My teachers are aware, but they lack concern. I can't pretend like nothing happens when I'm too afraid to turn corners every single day of my life, but then again nobody really looks at how the dark circles have stained my usually fresh face lately. I can't sleep. The nightmares of Karofsky and Azimio are the worst. I close my eyes, and there they are. Haunting me even when they're not around. It's their perfect setup. They've left enough of an imprint on my emotions that they can deal out physical and emotional damage even when I've left school.

But still, I keep strong. I dress the same, act the same, even though I've been told otherwise. Advised, even. Mercedes tells me that if I 'tone it down' a little more, they'll leave me alone. It shouldn't have to come to that, though. I'm maintaining my pride, if nothing else. The way I'm allowed to dress is my prerogative. It's nobody else's business.

"What have we told you about those corsets, Lady Hummel?" Karofsky spits at me as I remain glued to the locker, my back straining against the metal. I'm too afraid to move. Even if I did, it would just result in another slam. My back _must_ be some kind of purplish hue right now. I swallow my fear and raise an eyebrow. My perfectly shaped veneer remains intact, at least for right now.

"You told me not to wear them because they offended you. It just so happens that I really don't give a shit. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to cleanse the foul stench of your ignorance from my Alexander McQueen." Honestly, I have no idea where the raging sass comes from, particularly when I'm under direct threat, but it comes. They don't like that.

"Listen up, faggot. We don't care for that cocky attitude you've got there. You walk around thinking you're better than us, but really you're not. You're a fag and nobody around here likes that, you hear? You won't find another fairy at this school, so why don't you just transfer? I hear there's a perfectly good gay school in Westerville. It's crawling with homos." Oh, Dalton Academy. They must be talking about it, anyway. I looked into it before coming to McKinley, but it was just a pipe dream. I knew that my dad could never afford the tremendously steep tuition.

Hands grab me and pressed even more firmly against the locker. It's not even my locker, I think feebly, but why? It's not important.

"You're not gonna fight back, fancy?" What would be the point in doing something like that? There's six of them and they weigh around four of me…each. I have no chance. Azimio reaches out his beefy hand to grasp my chin. He forces me to look at his leering face. I have the most tempting urge to spit in his face, but I would probably be murdered on the spot for that. I stare at him, wondering what vile thoughts are running through his mind at this moment.

"We've all had enough of your fairy shit. Now we've asked nicely before, but now we're telling you. _Leave. This. School. _And we'll leave you alone." He releases me and steps away, as do the others.

"Wow, what an interesting demand. I wonder what Coach Sylvester would think about the Cheerio who single-handedly won her Nationals last year just moving out of the school, ready to join another squad and win Nationals for them. I think she would want revenge on whoever chased me out, don't you? And remember what happened to Castle last year? She disappeared. Think carefully next time about who you threaten. Now if you'll excuse me." I left them there, dumbfounded by my words. It was risky and could have potentially blew up my face but I'm safe. For now at least. There's a good chance that they'll find me later in the day and punch me, but I won't dwell on that. Now, Glee Club.

* * *

Glee Club has always been my safe haven. My sanctuary. I owe a lot of Mr Schuester and the rest of the club. Well, when they cared, I did, but now I'm not so sure. They're all too wrapped up in their relationships to bother much about me. I wonder if today will be any different.

I'm the first one there, naturally. I'm always way too eager to arrive in the choir room. Avoiding hot-headed involves a lot of being early to safe places. Everybody else will stumble along anytime soon, I'm sure. The next person to arrive is Santana. She usually takes the seat at the back, the one…oh the one that I'm sat next to. I wonder if she'll sit here today.

She nods at me and then takes the seat. That's surprisingly.

"Hummel." She regards coolly. Wait, she's initiating conversation? This is new.

"Santana. And what brings me the pleasure of your company?" I ask, truly curious.

"I watched the jocks get in your grill just now and followed you here." I snarl.

"Oh, well thank you for your help."

"Cut the shit, Hummel. I was _about_ to say that I really respect what you did. I've never actually seen them harass you, so I just assumed that you took it and didn't fight back, but I'm surprisingly impressed. I have a lot more respect for you."

"Oh, thank you Santana, but I'm just doing what I need to do to survive. I'm not admirable or courageous for standing up to the jocks."

"I didn't say you were any of those things. I just said that I respect you more now that I know you're not a _total_ pansy." She laughs shortly.

"Well I appreciate that all the same."

"Oh by the way, heads up today. Apparently there's some new hot jock walking the halls and I've heard that he's 100% gay. Jocks are your type, right?"

"I haven't actually thought about that much, but my track record does prove as much. I'll make sure to look out for him, but he's probably straight." I like to not get my hopes up in case they're crushed. I never really did with Finn, but I was still crushed all the same.

The others begin to file in, frowning at the sight of Santana and I talking. I admit, it's rare. Unheard of, actually. Brittany takes the seat next to her best friend while the others fill the front row. Puck, Mike, Mercedes and Tina complete the back row.

"Well, we'll see because he's thinking of joining Glee Club. Honestly, it'll be a welcome change. Everyone's bored of seeing Lady Hummel without Lord Hummel on his fabulously attired arm." Santana shrugs and goes back to filing her nails. I do appreciate the heads up, though. It'll be nice to have another gay guy at the school, but if he's a jock he won't get any of the hatred I do. Maybe we could be friends though! Or more? Who knows?

"Good to know." It's nice of Santana to do something for other people. Too bad I don't really know her that well. An idea strikes me. "Hey, Santana?" She looks across at me.

"I'm planning a Glee girls and gay sleepover this weekend. Are you up for it?" Santana thinks about it, probably quite thoroughly in her overactive mind.

"Yeah sure, why not? Wait. Is Berry coming?" I pause, thinking about it. Would Rachel coming ruin the night? Santana apparently seemed to think so. Although I would feel bad if she was excluded from my sleepover…

"If she agrees, I'd like her to be there."

"Good. I have plans to stick her hand in warm water."

"What are you, eight?"

"You can't beat the classics, Hummel." Santana smiles.

I sigh. "Since you'll be attending one of my legendary sleepovers, you'll have to get into the habit of calling me 'Kurt', since that is my name and if you shout 'Hummel' in my house, my dad thinks you're talking to him."

There's murmuring from the front of the choir room, but I can't quite hear it.

"Kurt."

"Yes, that's good. Kurt is my name."

"No. Kurt, _look_."

I look.


	3. Golden

I look.

Stood at six feet tall with piercing green eyes that I immediately decide put the shiniest emeralds to shame is the most perfect human being ever to walk the Earth. Now I know what you're thinking. Beauty is subjective, et cetera, but this cannot be disputed. This specimen stood in front of me takes the title of 'Most Beautiful Species Alive'. My breath hitches in my throat. I can almost feel Santana's smirk, but who has the time to look at her when Adonis himself graces us with his presence. I blink three times to make sure I'm actually awake. Pinch. Yes, I'm awake. But _how_?

And then he speaks.

"Uh, hi. I'm Sam Evans and I'm new to McKinley. I just moved here from Tennessee last month and when I found out that there was a Glee Club here, I didn't think twice about auditioning. I'd love to join if you think there's a place for me."

I swear I had to strain to continue listening to him speaking. His eyes and the husky tone to his voice are serious distractors. He sure knows how to hold an audience. Each second is ticking away and each second I'm finding something new that transfixes me. I can imagine the extremely hot body he has managed to conceal under his tee, which I think is a waste of material. One, it's bad fashion, but more importantly, he should never wear shirts ever. Ugh, now I'm objectifying him. I swore I would never do that, but it's so difficult when every sexual hormone in my body is honed onto this boy and is screaming at me. The temptation burns and I don't know how much longer I can hold out.

"If you don't mind, I'd really like to audition now. I have a song prepared and I'm ready to go."

"Accompaniment?" Mr Schuester asks. Wait, what? He's _singing_? Does he _want_ to cause my heart to fail or does he just not realise the dazzling effect he has on the entire room. Well, Sam is a great test of their judgement. He is clearly exquisite and if they don't see that, then there we have it. They suck at reading people. Even if he can't sing, I'll vote yes to have him in. I'm sure the girls will, too. Oh god, there goes the issue of his sexuality. Straight? Bisexual? Gay? Pan? Something else? If he's straight, I may as well cut out my heart and donate it because I'm seriously enamoured. It's been around two minutes since I saw him and I can now officially say that love at first sight is a viable option. It's pretty unexplainable, actually. It's like…every nerve in my body is pulsating at rapid paces because they yearn to feel his touch. It's like my heart is looking at him and beating _for_ him. My eyes don't want to look away, although I know I'm staring like a lemur. They never want to see anything else. My stomach has basically gone to mulch and it's flipping the fuck out. Oh yeah, I'm in _extremely_ deep.

"Crap, uh, would anyone mind playing piano for me?" He looks around the room, though doesn't glance at me. Don't I play piano? Yes. Yes, I do. Should I play for him? It would give me a reason to be close to him. But no. Sadly, I can't. Because my brain is suspecting his heterosexuality and too much exposure to forbidden territory will slowly deconstruct my heart.

I feel Santana nudge me. "Kurt plays, I'm sure he'd _love_ to accompany you." She smiles widely and falsely.

Oh my _Grace Kelly _he is looking _directly_ at me. For the love of Madonna, why can't I speak? Say yes, Kurt. You can hardly say no to him now. The eyes say it all. Or maybe I just want to impress him. But how can I play piano when I can barely look at him. Hearing him sing will completely throw me off my game and I'll mess up and—oh he wants an answer.

Sam was looking desperately at me. I just nod, not sure I can formulate any words at the current moment. I rise from my chair and make my way down to him.

"W-What's your song?" I say, the stammer completely fucking me up. But yet I'm so nervous I'm surprised words came out at all. He leans down to my ear and whispers his song selection. Luckily, I know it and play it quite frequently. Talk about meant to be, right? No. Focus, Kurt, you're here to play for him not to propose to me and declare your sudden obsession with blonde boys who sing. I sit at the piano, flexing my fingers. Wait, I forgot to ask the key. Oh, he's looking at me like he wants me to play. Okay, and go.

My fingers stretch out across the keys as the introductory melody begins. I love the song and I hope Sam can sing it well.

Sam takes a deep breath and begins to sing.

_Before he even falls asleep  
I got one foot out the door, one foot out the door, _

Wait, _he_? That is definitely a lyrical change because the original has female pronouns. Maybe he is gay? Kurt, watch you don't slip. It's not like I will, I have this song ingrained in my mind.

_I think he said his name but I was wasted  
I don't care anymore, one foot out the door _

He sings so beautifully. I can hear so much emotion pouring from his voice. I just know that he is thinking of a past experience and using it to influence his musicality. Hardly anybody can act this well through song. It's only been one verse and I can already bet that he's a threat for Finn's male lead position. There's more warmth to his voice than Finn's and they're probably about the same range. Yeah, I have a good ear for this stuff.

_Night after night, day after day  
Jack and coke smoking on the fire escape  
Is it too soon or is it too late? _

_Am I crazy to think that I could be in love  
When it all ends up, it all ends up wasted?_

No, Sam, you could be in love with me if you wanted to be. You know, I'll be here waiting for you to go ahead and fall.

_I'd give you my heart but I'd just fuck it up,  
We'd end up, we'd end up wasted  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la_

_Trying to numb the pain away,_  
_I know how to leave but not how to stay,_  
_I wonder if I will ever find someone to fill me up inside,_  
_Someone to kiss my fears away,_  
_If I believed in God I'd pray, to God I'd pray_

_Am I crazy to think that I could be in love when it all ends up, it all ends up wasted,_  
_I'd give you my heart, but I'd just fuck it up, and we'd end up, we'd end up wasted,_  
_La la la la la la la_

_La la la la la la la  
La la la la la la la  
__  
Night after night, day after day,  
Jack and coke smoking on the fire escape,  
Is it too soon or is it too late?_

_Am I crazy to think that I could be in love when it all ends up, it all ends up wasted,_  
_I'd give you my heart, but I'd just fuck it up, and we'd end up, we'd end up wasted,_  
_I say we'd end up wasted, ooooh,_

_We'd end up wasted. _

As soon as my hands leave the ebony and ivory keys, I'm applauding loudly for this magnificent boy. After a few seconds, the whole club is clapping for him. Santana and Brittany are standing. Sam turns and gestures to me, diverting the club's attention to me for what seems like the first time in forever. I can't remember when I last sang a solo for the group. Maybe '_A House Is Not A Home'_, perhaps? God, that _was_ quite creepy, actually. I am not doing that again.

Before I can comprehend what's happening, Sam's arms wrap themselves around my neck and he's hugging me. Oh, he smells _so_ good. So fresh and intoxicating, I could smell it forever. His strong arms feel safe and protective and I already trust him. I've literally said three words to him, just not the three words I wanted to start with, and I already feel like he's a big part of my world. Surely, this isn't normal behaviour.

"Thank you," Sam whispers in my ear and my eyes widen. I know what it is now.

_This_ is love.

* * *

**Author's Note: The song is "Wasted" by MKTO.  
**


	4. Glitch

Reluctantly, I pull away from Sam as to not arouse suspicions just in case I heard the lyrics wrong and he is actually straight. I'm sure that Santana has clocked onto whatever that was just now. It felt as though the hug was loaded with unspoken words, though that may be just because I want to read into it too deeply and hear things that he wasn't saying.

"Excellent, Sam! That was really, really good!" Will beams, excited to have found a new member.

"Thank you Mr Schuester."

"So guys? Do we have our thirteenth member?" Everybody nodded in unison, including me. Sam smiled widely at me once again and we both took our seats. I am about to offer to have Sam sit with me, but Rachel gets there first and demands that Quinn move up a seat so that Sam can sit next to her. Oh hell no. She is not getting my man.

My man. I'm being stupid, we've only just met and whatever my feelings are right now, they're not solidified. They're a fever dream.

Predictably, Santana gives me the most suggestive glance ever.

"What?" I hiss, looking like I'm paying attention to Will.

"There was so much sexual tension in that hug I swear that every gay couple in the world just cooed at the same time from that much homosexual energy."

"Santana. We don't even know if he's gay."

"Don't act like you didn't hear the lyric change. It was so obvious. I think that was his way of coming out without making a big deal about it." Her tone changed to serious. "But I also think that something major happened to him in Tennessee. That wasn't acting."

So she's noticed it too. Well, whatever happened isn't my business until he decides to share it with me, if ever. I do hope we can connect though, I would really like that to happen. Seeing Rachel fuss over him isn't helping matters. So I act. Will's somewhere in his office sorting through his new Journey sheet music so I've got some time.

"Rachel." I hiss. She turns, and so does Sam. I can almost feel my hands beginning to clam up from Sam looking at me. I have to get over this.

"Yes, Kurt?"

"Before I forget, are you free this weekend? I'm having a spectacular sleepover and you're invited. If you have plans watching _Funny Girl _and _Yentl, _cancel them. Let me know." The whole club is now listening to me invite Rachel to a social event with other people, surprise barely concealed. Rachel and I have never really gotten along.

"I'll be there, Kurt. But if I go, you have to tell me why you blew the High F in _Defying Gravity_." Rachel challenges. Shit. How does she know that? Well, she does have perfect pitch and the note did sound abominable. If anybody else noticed, they didn't say anything. Sam looks confused.

"Rachel, not now, please. I'll tell you everything on Saturday." She nods, sensing the tone. Her social skills _are_ slowly improving after all.

I address the rest of the club. "Girls, you know the drill," Tina, Britt, Mercedes and Quinn nod. They have been to several of my sleepovers and they're always the same. Except this time, Rachel will be there, as will Santana. Santana has been once before, but not as frequently. Her apparent distaste for my personality explained that well enough.

Sam turns around as Will walks back into the room.

"You blew it? You had a chance to push Berry off her pedestal forever and get a solo for once! Why would you do that? I was about to vote for you and then that happened." Santana speaks.

"As I said, I'll explain on Saturday." She nods simply.

Will commands attention once more.

"Right, okay, guys! I know I'm not famous for rigid lesson plans and I usually think of them as I'm about to write something, but I actually have a really good one. It's a challenge. It's called 'The Change Up'." There's a murmur of interest from the club. Will continues to explain the lesson to us.

"This week, in Glee Club, you'll each do something you've never done before. Be it a new duet partner, a new genre, your first solo, another language, I don't care, as long as you're stepping outside of your comfort zones." He actually looks really jazzed about this assignment. I'm kinda feeling it too. Maybe I could duet with Santana this week, or _Sam._ I'll ask him, after all there's no harm in requesting him as a duet partner. He could say no, but he could always say yes. That would be magical and an excuse to spend more time with him.

"You've got until the end of the week. Some of you will perform on Thursday and the rest on Friday. Tomorrow and Wednesday will be allotted rehearsal times as well as after school times. The auditorium is free all week so make sure to grab it first if you want it. If there are no announcements or questions, then you're free to go and plan things. Dismissed." Will heads into his office, evidently impressed by his own lesson plan.

Wait. Free to leave? It's only been twenty minutes. There's another forty minutes left of the hour and the jocks will already want my blood. Oh god no this can't happen now.

"Hey Tink, if you want to catch Blondie for your duet, he's getting ready to leave. Now get out of Neverland and get that duet." Santana reads my mind. I guess she's my wingman (well, wingwoman). I'm shocked. All it took was fighting back against the jocks and suddenly we're Elphaba and Glinda! I'm Glinda, of course. Santana would make a great Elphie. And I've just realised while I'm thinking about Wicked roles, Sam is getting up and leaving.

I grab my bag hastily and catch up to him. It seems effortless, walking alongside him. He spots me a few inches down from him and smiles.

"Thanks again for before." He says as we leave the choir room, both turning left. I'm just going where he's going until he splits off.

"Oh, don't mention it, I love that song."

"Me too. Hey, I was wondering, since I'm new to the club, whoever sings with me completes the assignment, right?"

Is this an offer?

"Yes, I would assume so."

"Really? You don't get where I'm going with this?" Sam raises an eyebrow. Oh my God he can do the eyebrow thing really well. Can you say soulmates?

"I think so, but I've been really wrong about this sort of stuff in the past so I never want to make snap judgements when it could end up being something entirely different."

"Am I going to have to spell it out?" He chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. It's almost like a harmony.

"Probably, yes." Now I'm just prolonging the conversation.

"Okay. _Kurt_…erm…"

"Hummel." I supply, getting his drift this time.

"Like the pianist? That's adorable. German, right?"

"Yeah."

"Anyway, _Kurt Hummel_. Since we've already proven our musical prowess, I would really like it if you would sing a duet with me for our Glee Club assignment at the end of the week. So how about it?" He spoke slowly, exaggerating his words. I play along, nodding my head at appropriate moments.

"Sam Evans. I would be honoured to sing with you. Shall we begin tomorrow in Glee Club?"

He hesitates. "Actually, I was kinda hoping you were free tonight. My brother's having like six friends over and my sister's gone out with my parents to some event. It's just the babysitter with them and things are weird. So are you free? Please say yes." I'm not, actually. But for Sam? Maybe I could be. I'm sure Finn won't mind postponing sorting out his closet. To be honest, I'm not sure why I'm helping. He's been lousy the past few weeks. You know what? Fuck it.

"Yeah, I'm free. I know this really secluded spot where we can sing as loud as we want and get no noise complaints. It's near this really nice Italian place if we get hungry." I ramble, talking about my spot by the lake where nobody else goes. I've gone there religiously on the anniversary of my mother's death. We used to go there together whenever my dad was at work and we were bored.

"Whoa, is this like…a date?" He whispers the last part. Oh no, he's ashamed to be seen with me. Or he's straight and freaked out by my unintentional insinuation. Both are bad.

"No, no, not at all! I was just thinking practically. Singing always makes me hungry." Relief seemed to cross his face. Oh. So it's like that. Fantastic. It's Finn 2.0 but so much more real and potent.

"Uh yeah, that's cool. Meet me in the choir room after school?" He suggests. I nod quickly, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable.

"Sure, yeah. See you later then." I scurry away, thinking things over in my overly analytical mind.

So first he initiates the duet and then gets freaked out by thinking it's a date. Okay, this doesn't add up. So there's Reason Number One: Sam is gay and just doesn't want to date anybody. But why would he look visibly relieved? That doesn't make sense. Reason Two: Sam is straight but just wants to be my friend but feels awkward about the fact that I thought it was a date. Makes some sense, I guess. That's Finn-like behaviour.

Reason Three consists of Sam being gay and wanting it to be a date so he skips until last period to buy me some flowers and we'll sing a beautiful romantic duet by the lake and eat pasta like in The Lady and the Tramp. Yeah, that's not very likely. But it could still happen. If today is Monday, then never.

I guess I just have to wait until the end of the day, avoiding the jocks while I go and trying not to think about Sam.

Should be about as easy as persuading Rachel Berry that Barbra Streisand cannot sing. All I know is that I'm in for a really rough ride with this. And not in the good way, either.

I turn the corner to go towards the library and wish I hadn't even bothered. At the end of the hallway stands David Karofsky. He's alone but he's clocked me. There's no point in running. These Kurt Geiger boots aren't made for running and he'll catch me anyway. Okay, maybe I'll walk really quickly. Where to though? The girl's bathroom, maybe? Figgins _did_ warn me about not going in there again for conduct reasons so maybe I should avoid that this time. The auditorium is all the way across the school. But I have no time to think. Karofsky darts down the corridor and I slip into a Science classroom. It's empty, but he knows I'm in here. Crap.

What the hell am I going to do?


	5. Saviour

I crush myself against the far wall of the classroom as I wait for the impending danger to saunter through the door, poised to inflict pain. I'm desperately thinking up ways that I could possibly fight or talk my way out of this. Maybe Coach Sylvester happens to walk by and see everything first hand and save me? Maybe I fight back physically. No, that would never work. Well, I guess I'll just have to take it and see what the damage is. There's nowhere to run or hide from now. It wasn't the smartest move, boxing myself into the corner and waiting for Karofsky to find me. But oh well. A mistake is a mistake. Like my judgement of Sam was a mistake. Well, maybe, he's still undetermined.

No, I can't worry about that right now. I see Karofsky turn the corner and his eyes fixate on me. It makes me feel dirty, like I'm his plaything or something.

"Hummel." He regards, saying my name like it was venomous to him. The hatred in his tone is vividly expressed and it sends a brutal shiver ripping down my spine, though I don't show it.

_No. Weakness. _

That's the first rule I implemented. Go down swinging. Well, maybe not literally because I don't want a broken wrist, but verbally and figuratively, yes.

"Karofsky," I reply, swallowing down the fear that shot up my body like a bullet. "What do you want?" Even though I know, I want him to tell me.

"You were defiant today, Fancy. You disobeyed us and talked back like a little bitch. So I'm going to treat you like one. I'll make sure the Fury leave its mark on your face. Good luck explaining the bruises to Daddy, fag." Karofsky walks slowly towards me, his speech getting quieter but more ferocious as he comes.

"Why do you hide behind your fists, Dave?" I try, attempting to use what little knowledge I have of Psychology to try and psych him out.

"Shut the fuck up, Hummel. Did I _say_ you were allowed to speak? Now stay quiet or I'll make it twice as painful for you." He begins to whisper in my ear now. "Don't. Scream."

I close my eyes and anticipate the fierce blow.

"That's _enough_." A familiar voice echoes from behind tormentor.

"Evans," Karofsky hisses. "Why the fuck are you defending this fag? Are you one too?"

"So what if I am? It shouldn't bother _you_, Karofsky. Nobody, and I do mean nobody, wants to look at you while you're changing. So back the hell off and leave Kurt alone before I have to make you." Sam warns. Oh, my hero. So wait. He _is _gay?

Karofsky makes a strangled groaning sound. "Ugh, you're both just a bunch of fairies." He storms out, leaving me safe for another day. Sam comes to my side immediately.

"Kurt! Oh god, are you okay?" I nod weakly.

"Just a little shaken up, I guess." Sam cradles my face.

"Did he touch you?" Anger laces his tone, surprising me. He seems defensive, or simply protective. I like to think that it is the latter, of course.

"No, he only threatened to. He was about to until you stopped him. Thank you, Sam. You might have just saved me. No, there's no 'might' about it, you definitely just saved me."

"It's lucky I was walking past. I was actually trying to find you again. I wanted to apologise for the way I reacted about the whole date thing. I didn't want you to think that I was embarrassed by your company or anything. I just…" It seems hard for him to elucidate.

"Sam, it's fine. Honestly. No explanation needed. We just got our wires crossed, I think."

"Okay, good. So we're still on for tonight?" I nod.

"Yeah, of course. We can just go to my place or something and figure out some song suggestions."

"Thank you. I just really can't be at my house." At my curious look, he waves me away. "Forget I said that. It's n-not important." I have a strange pang of suspicion in my gut which tells me that it's really important and he's hiding it away.

"Sure. But Sam, I know we just met today, but if you need to talk about anything, you can come to me. About anything at all. I'll add you on Facebook or something?" I don't want to ask for his number in case it's a step too far, so I settle for the communal social network.

"That sounds good. But I'm okay, Kurt. Really, I am. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Anytime." I smile, happy to help even partially. I take another moment to really appraise Sam and it turns out that he just gets more beautiful by the minute.

"Also, could we order a pizza tonight? It's my only night off from my diet and I feel like I need to splurge. I was so nervous about that audition that I missed a few meals and worked out more." He looks hopefully at me. I'm not usually one for pizza, but maybe a low-calorie option will suffice.

"Definitely, that sounds really great. Domino's isn't too far from my house." I'm not sure why I just said that, since they deliver anyway, but Sam seems to have glazed over it.

"Are we still meeting in the choir room after school?" I nod my affirmation. "Okay, cool. See you later. I'll be on the lookout for any more jocks that look like they're out to get you." He chuckles slightly.

"I feel like Lois Lane."

"The fact that you just made a Superman reference makes you the coolest person at this school."

"Glad to hear it, although you're alone with your opinion." I smile, glad we're sharing some banter together. Well, we are friends after all.

"Then everybody else sucks." He says simply and waves another goodbye. I wave back, although I know he can't see me.

"Bye, Sam." I whisper under my breath. Seeing students walk past the room, I remember where I was headed before Karofsky side-tracked me. The library. I need to check my email and catch up on some Geography work before my next class tomorrow and I don't think I'll be getting any homework done tonight. Okay, that sounds like Sam and I are doing the nasty, but it wasn't meant like that. I'm so glad this is all being said in my head rather than aloud.

In my head I can express my potent feelings for Sam without anybody knowing and judging me for the little time I've known him. I can't explain it, but there's all kinds of emotions swirling around in my head, compartmentalised into a little box labelled 'Sam'. There's a purplish-blue orb of feelings just pulsating right next to a shimmering gold particle that is zipping around the place like it owns it. Well, that's how I picture it. There's the subdued, more rational feeling for the boy and there's the erratic, restless part of my brain that scares me thinking about Sam every single second in my subconscious thought. Chances are I'll dream about him tonight. And you know something? I wouldn't have it any other way.


	6. Plans

The day passes quickly, the time until I get to see Sam approaching at a rapid pace. My heart pangs when it realises that I'm walking to the choir room. My eyes sting, probably preparing themselves to look at his exquisite form. I'm surprised that I'm walking properly until it's made rather apparent that I'm not. Something definitely solid blocks my path and a feeling of fear washes over me as I predict to see Karofsky or Azimio when I look up.

"In a rush, Kurt?" The unusually soothing voice of Noah Puckerman sounds in my ears. I can relax again. I'm surprised I didn't fall down to be honest. Puck's chest is really hard.

"Damn, I'm sorry, Noah. I wasn't looking."

"Nah, it's cool. I thought you were going to bounce like a basketball, but you're sturdier than you seem. Thinking about Evans?"

What? "What?" I verbalise.

"Oh, I totally saw that hug you two shared. There were so many vibes and so much sexual tension that even I was getting a little hot." Puck says unashamedly.

"There's nothing between me and Sam." I say honestly. The truth upsets me a little though.

"Not yet, maybe, but I definitely saw the way you looked at him in Glee. That was pure love in your eyes. It's the way that Santana looks at Britt." I'm glad somebody else has noticed that.

"Maybe I'm attracted to him a little, Noah, but I'm afraid I can't do this right now. I'm late to meet S…someone."

"Sam, you mean?" Puck chuckles. "It's cool. We'll talk about this later. You can't hide your feelings from me, Kurt." At least he's calling me Kurt now. He walks away and I think about how much he's grown from simply shoving me into lockers and throwing me into the trash. The whole 'Beth' debacle must have seriously done a number on him for it to result in a vasectomy and a personality change.

* * *

I walk into the choir room and see Sam tinkering with the delicate keys of the piano.

"Do you play?" My voice causes him to jump, rather frantically from the stool, causing it to clash to the floor.

"Kurt! God, make some noise when you walk!" He snaps, clearly agitated. Oh shit, I didn't mean to scare him.

"I'm sorry, Sam, really." I apologise, almost earnestly. He looks at me sadly and shakes his head.

"No, Kurt, no need to apologise. I'm just a little jumpy after what happened before. I'm half expecting Karofsky to hit me over the head with a hockey stick." He half-laughs, unsure as to whether it is a sensitive topic.

"They won't hurt you, Sam. They choose people like me who can't fight back physically. They can't understand my words so I'm literally useless. I don't know how I've managed to cope for this long actually."

He picks the stool back up and places it neatly where he found it and sits back on it, facing me and the door this time. God, he's beautiful. I almost forgot how much I admired his face and bone structure. Those cheekbones…Focus, Kurt.

"What have they done to you? I need to know what I'm up against."

"Sam, this isn't your fight. You have no idea how much I owe you for saving my ass back there, but getting yourself involved isn't a wise idea. This is my hill to climb alone. I'm not trying to be a martyr, it's just the way it is. You'll survive at McKinley if you keep your distance from it all."

"You mean from you." He guesses.

"No, I didn't mean that. It would probably better your chances, but I don't want that. I guess that's the selfish part of me. I want to stay friends with you, Sam. But not if it means you getting hurt."

"No offence, but this isn't really about you. I mean, it is right now but it won't be. As soon as I come out, they'll branch out and target me too. I can handle them and so can you. We'll do it together." He promises. Finally! He admits his sexuality. My mind does a little happy dance while I catch up to his words.

"With more targets, they won't know where to go. I'll be their more familiar, weaker line of attack, but you'll be the cool jock that betrayed their brotherhood by coming out. They'll be torn and confused. We can do this." I decipher, feeling hope fill my chest, probably a little prematurely. Would the torture die down a little or cease to exist if Sam came out? Would it inspire the school to become more accepting if a jock revealed himself? Who knows?

"This really gets you down, doesn't it?"

I just nod, not wanting to go right into it all in the choir room. Maybe some other time?

"I can imagine. Well I'm here for you, Kurt. Speaking of, we should get going and work on our duet." Sam suggests wisely. I guess I'm just stalling until the jocks all leave or enter the weight training room so they don't throw things at me.

"Thank you. And yes, we should. Did you drive here this morning?"

"No, my mom dropped me off. She had to fill out some forms and things like that so she thought it was best."

"Cool, you can come back with me then. And I'll drop you off later if you want." I offer, being adorably generous.

"That sounds good to me! After you, sir."

"Why thank you."

I lead the way to my car, praying to Gaga that my new air fresheners have kicked in. I purchased some lavender scented fixings for my baby just so that she would keep her authenticity and also to mask the stench of post-practice Finn Hudson from it. That was not my decision to let him in there, but my Dad rules over everything.

And what I see when I reach my Navigator shouldn't shock me, but it does.

Written in what I'm presuming is permanent blood-red spray paint makes my blood boil.

_KURT HUMMEL = DIRTY FAGGOT _

"Bastards," Sam utters from beside me. "I'll find them, Kurt and I'll make sure they get their comeuppance, I swear."

"No need, Sam. It's fine." I can't help but sound downcast. My car is the one thing that they've never touched, probably out of respect of it being one of the finer vehicles in the lot, but Karofsky probably got agitated about me evading him twice in one day and had enough. At least the tires aren't slashed.

"This is not fine. When I see Karofsky, I'm going to ruin him."

"Please don't do anything reckless on my account."

"It's nothing I wouldn't do for anybody else. Honestly, it sounds like they deserve it for two years of messing with you. This ends now."

"Thank you." I say in a quiet, timid voice.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know these chapters are short, but I can update more frequently. If you guys prefer less updates but longer chapters, say so in a review or PM and I'll adapt my style. Review!**


	7. Learning

It turns out that the paint came off quite easily, actually, with the help of some of Sue Sylvester's homemade solution. I don't even want to know what is in that stuff. After cleaning, I only just managed to persuade Sam not to sneak into the office and get Karofsky's address from his personal file and do some serious damage. Sam is incredibly serious about this, even now. I've calmed him down, just, but he's still livid, I can tell. I'm driving us home- to my house- and I glance at him occasionally. Partially just to look at him and partially because I want to see if that stormy expression that overwhelmed his face has subsided yet. He catches me looking at him. Damn, I try to be nonchalant about it.

"I'm not going to flip my shit in the car, Kurt, if that's what you're worried about." Sam says, surprisingly soothingly.

"It's not that. I just want to make sure you're okay." I stare straight ahead at the road, barely able to look at him. I know the glance he's giving me though. It's one of confusion and slight pity.

"Okay you're either really, really sweet or self-destructive. Of course I'm okay, Kurt. Your car just got vandalised. You were almost almost attacked earlier this morning and from what I can glean, this has been going on for some time now." I take a moment to pause.

"I'm not self-destructive. I just know what effects homophobia can have, even if it's not direct. I've dealt with worse and came out swinging, so I know that I'm okay until worse happens. Is that really pessimistic of me to say?" I almost chuckle, the irony contained, but only barely.

"I get that. I just worry. I've only known you for a day, but I find myself wanting to protect you from them. You'll tell me if anything happens you know. Anything at all. Or if something has happened in the past that you're keeping quiet because you're worried about the consequences if you tell somebody, but it's eating away at you inside and you can't help but feel the pain fresh every day." I get the feeling we're not talking about me anymore. I want to ask about what's troubling him at home, but it's really not my place. I wonder if I should tell him about what happened sophomore year with Karofsky? Would the jock actually kill me for telling? He seemed to mean it when he said it, but I don't know whether it was just an empty threat or not. I can never accurately assess his capabilities and whether he would actually follow through with it. I decide to keep silent, just in case he means it.

"Nothing like that, really. Just the usual high school torture, but in very frequent amounts. It's nothing compared to what a lot of kids get. I'm lucky, really."

"Kurt? It's okay to know that your being bullied. Quite badly, in fact. You don't have to play down the abuse because somebody might have it worse somewhere else, okay? Trust me."

"You keep saying things like that," I begin, and there's no way to stop. Why did I have to open my mouth? He'll probably get angry at me. "Like something's happened to you. Something really bad. And it's okay to speak out. No matter what the consequences might be." It's apparent by Sam's following silence that I'm right, and he knows it, but he gives me a steely glare.

"Just drop it, okay? Yeah, something happened. And I know it's good to talk. But not yet. I'm still processing. I'll do you a deal, Kurt. When I'm ready to talk, I'll come straight to you." I nod.

"And for me, you have to let me help you with Karofsky and the others. None of this 'protecting me' business, okay?" I nod again, unable to disagree with him. His eyes work their usual magic on me and I'm gone. He's in control of me. Transfixed isn't the word. There's something else to it.

"Good."

We arrive at my house, discussing which genre we should tackle for our assignment. We've gotten nowhere. Sam is still a country boy at heart, but my voice simply doesn't go well with country music. I tried.

I open the front door to my house and check for signs of life.

"Dad? Carole? Finn?" I call, not expecting an answer, but still wary. Dad and Carole are at work for a little while longer and Finn is working on his assignment elsewhere.

"Okay, we're alone, so if you hear any noises, call Ghostbusters." I quip, making Sam smile widely. Oh I love that grin of his. I could look at it all day.

"I'll be sure to do just that."

"Sam, do you want anything to drink?" I call behind me from the kitchen. He's lingering by the doorway, politeness kicking in and not wanting to impose. Silly boy, he's always welcome.

"Um, just water would be lovely, thank you." He replies. I turn.

"You don't have to stand there, make yourself at home. If you want to head down to the basement, that's my room, and I'll bring your water down." I suggest. I'm so glad that I'm a tidy person. My bedroom is always spotless and meticulously organised.

"Yeah, sure." I'm positive that he just doesn't want to disagree with me in my own house. I get him his water and grab a can of Diet Coke for myself. Heading downstairs, I pause momentarily, seeing Sam's sad face staring at his phone screen.

"Everything alright?"

"Course. Why wouldn't it be? Thank you." He adds as I hand him his water. I crack open the can and take a sip. I'm very aware of the silence between us.

"Your room is awesome by the way."

"Everyone expects it to be bright pink and full of rainbow posters, but I went for the classic Dior look instead. It was more me."

"I get what you mean. Say, because I like comic books, people think my room is full of Star Wars and Avatar memorabilia."

"And is it?"

"You'll have to see that for yourself." Oh my God, Sam Evans, what are you trying to do to me? "Oh, that was a little forward. Ugh, I have no filter in my head to internalise what Im saying. Most of the time I'll just say what comes into my head. I should have warned you about that."

"Oh, I have that too. Like if Rachel's sweater should be burned amongst a pile of flannel, then I'll tell her. If I think that someone's being mean, I'll tell them. It's detrimental to my social skills, I'll tell you that." Sam nods, like he knows what I'm talking about.

"I think it's a good trait to have actually, Kurt. Brutal honesty is something I advocate so much."

"Yeah, me too. So what would you like on your pizza?" I ask politely, grabbing my phone and dialling the number.

"Um, chicken and sweetcorn, please." I look at him quizzically. "It's diet day." He cares about his health? He's literally perfection.

I order his pizza and a Veggie Supreme for myself and load up my iTunes."

"So for our duet. Where do we want to take this? Do we want to say something with our songs or simply showcase our voices?"

"Well, I don't know about you, but I like to show people how I'm feeling through songs. I hate using regular words to describe my mood or my situations, so finding the perfect song is a must. But if you want to take it a different way, then I'll be happy to do whatever you like." The generosity is pouring from him.

"I was about to suggest the same thing. I mean, I gathered that you performing 'Wasted' in Glee Club was about you telling a story about your life. Shut me up if I'm way off, but that's the vibe I got." I hope I'm not completely off-track here.

"No, you're absolutely right. Plus, I like the song. Which always helps." He chuckles quietly, almost nervously. He fidgets with his hands, and I guess that's his nervous habit. Like I grind my teeth together so nobody realises that I'm nervous. He looks so childlike, in a serene state of thoughtfulness.

"So that's sorted. Do we want to choose a song between us or perform a mash-up of two or more?"

"I think we could pull something really amazing off with two completely different songs that link together by a theme or a concept or something. If I'm not getting too ahead of the game, I kinda already have a song picked out that I was going to suggest." I breathe an internal sigh of relief because I've done the same thing. I scrolled through my iPod during free study and found the perfect song which can show the Glee Club that I'm feeling things but also that I can sing songs written for tenors and baritones quite well indeed.

"Pray tell, I'm sure it's brilliant." He finds the song on YouTube and sings along quietly with it. I'm rather familiar with it. The artist is one of my favourites. The song is performed with so much passion that it's perfect for self-expression. And if Sam can pull it off, there must be talent coursing in his veins, threatening to spill out through every orifice.

I slyly wipe a stray tear from my eye and nod. "That's beautiful. I love that song. I've also thought of something to use, if you want to hear it?" I suggest and find the instrumental of the song I prepared to go into my file on my laptop of random instrumentals in case I need them at any point. As my repertoire expands, so does my need for backing tracks.

I don't sing it full out, only hitting the necessary notes. I casually slip into my higher range, and it only just occurs to me how much my voice has improved lately. I'm training it much more rigorously than I used to, so I'm accrediting that for my rapid progression. Broadway, look out. Kurt Hummel is going to rock your world.

Sam smiles sadly, with emotion brimming at the surface. "Kurt, your voice is beautiful. And that song is so clear yet has so much opportunity for subtext. Hey! I have an idea. I know this song on guitar. Fancy learning it? And you could teach me mine on the piano and we could play them at the same time. We'll have a new duet partner and we'll learn a new instrument. Are you up for this challenge?" He looks at me, a playful determination filling his eyes.

"That sounds…difficult, but definitely doable. That's a great idea! There's a piano upstairs, we could get started after we've eaten if you'd like." I offer, thinking of piano lessons as such an excuse to be close to him. Perhaps there could be a moment where our fingers brush and the electricity would shoot through me and make him realise that he does love me, after all. Or maybe I'm getting ahead of myself? Yes, that's probably it.

"I would love that. I've never really mastered the piano. I only really know what note is what, but I can never play anything."

"That's the same with me and the guitar really. Well, except from the fact that I don't know what any of the strings are. I can only really play Happy Birthday on it. And that's at a stretch." I smile, as does he.

There's a moment. Our gazes linger on, something much deeper crackling beneath the surface of this silent exchange of auras. Unfortunately, because the delivery person is on record time, the doorbell rings. Wow, such a cockblocking delivery person. Maybe they won't get a tip.

Sam gets up to answer it, but I stop him. "What are you doing?"

"You can at least let me pay for the pizza, Kurt."

"It's fine, honestly. If it's Tiffany, I get a discount. I took her shopping once and picked out a fabulous outfit which she used to impress her ex-boyfriend. They're back together now and engaged. She owes me for that, apparently, so she knocks off $10 everytime she delivers here. If she sees you, she'll charge full price." I skip off into the hallway, Sam following behind me.

"Tiffany," I smile, opening the door. "How are you, lovely?"

She beams back at me. "I'm just grand, Kurtie! Wedding plans are taking over my life."

"You should've told me you started, I'm great at organising weddings. I can help, if you want." I suggest. I do love a good wedding to plan.

"Oh, you're a star. We'll pay you, of course. And you have such great taste, why didn't I think of you before? This guy that Daryl hired is useless, literally. He things that I shouldn't have a white dress. He says that we're not a traditional couple so our wedding should be eccentric and wacky. I'm firing him tomorrow." She laughs, pleased with herself. "Oh, you have company," She adds, seeing Sam behind me. "I'll leave you to it." She raises her eyebrow an infinitesimal amount, but just enough for me to catch the underlying ellipsis of her sentence. I shake my head quickly and she nods, handing over the pizza.

"That'll be $7, Kurt. My service was incredibly poor today, so I'll give you some money off." She winks at me, but recites her usual speech for Sam's benefit. It's our little deal.

"Thank you, Tiffany. Call me about the wedding planning." I remind her.

"Oh, don't worry, I will. Apparently we have a lot to catch up on." She wiggles her eyebrows jokingly and waves goodbye.

I shut the door behind her.

"Kurt Hummel, wedding planner extraordinaire?" Sam grins.

"You can laugh now, but I'm amazing at wedding. My Power Rangers got married and divorced in so many different combinations, they were like Fleetwood Mac." I chuckle. Sam laughs too, evidently getting the pop culture reference.

"No kidding. I did divorce my friend's Barbie and Ken dolls once, though, because Ken was in love with Barbie's best friend so who was I to stand in the way of soulmates?" Yeah, no kidding. Just kiss me, Sam, I _dare_ you. Go on. Do it. Now.

"You did the right thing, Sam. Right, I'll go and put some plates together. I've found that the aroma lingers for far less time if the box is immediately discarded."

"So you paid for the pizza, but I'm washing up. You can't even stop me." I think about it. A guy who wants to do chores. It's not very often that this comes around.

"Deal," I say, shaking his extended hand. Oh, the warmth that rushes through me feels like delirium at its most potent. There's a helium-esque lightness to my head that feels quite dangerous. My heart pounds so rapidly that it could just burst at any time. I let go, not wanting to prolong the vulnerable feeling of lust.

* * *

Whilst eating, we discuss so many different topics; music, movies, TV, fashion and even Glee Club. I give him a summary of the Glee Club members and eventually invite him to my sleepover. I feel a little giddy at him staying at my house, but I keep reminding myself that just because he's gay, it does not give me automatic rights to being his boyfriend. He accepts the invitation gratefully and announces that its time for him to wash up. We were done eating quickly, not getting large pizzas. His diet and my quest for completely healthiness led us to not stuff our faces with greasy Italian food.

I'm startling when his phone rings. I poke my head around the basement door.

"Sam, your phone's ringing. Want me to get it?" His head whips around quickly. He considers it.

"Yeah, just tell whoever it is to leave a message with you."

I descend the stairs again, clicking the green icon on his phone.

"Hello, Sam's phone, Kurt speaking."

"Kurt? I don't know a Kurt. Who are you?"

"I'm one of Sam's friends, he's not able to reach the phone. May I ask who's calling?"

"Tell Sam that it's Alex and he needs to get home as soon as he can." The tone is gravelly and dark.

"I'll pass the message along."

"Make sure that you do." The command is sharp and makes a little nervous.

"I will." I hang up, not assuming that a goodbye was even necessary, let alone a politeness feature.

Sam dries his hands and meets me back in my bedroom. "Who called?"

I relay the message. "They weren't very specific. Just that Alex needs you to come home as soon as you can. He didn't say why, just that you needed to. It sounded important, is everything okay?"

Sam's face pales and he grabs his phone from the bed, stuffing it in his jeans pocket. "Yeah, everything's fine. I just forgot that I needed to get home. Thank you for the pizza and we'll work on this in Glee tomorrow?" I nod. "Cool, bye Kurt."

"Wait, Sam! I'll add you on Facebook if you need to talk or anything."

He nods impatiently and dashes up the stairs, taking them three at a time and slams the door behind him.

I quickly retrieve my own phone and Facebook search him. Finding him instantly (Rachel is already friends with him, no surprises there), I click add and then drop a quick message. _Hope everything's alright at home. x _

Leaving the kiss at the end is a risky move, but what's done is done and I use it generally as a sign of respect and affection. I have both for Sam. But my mind can't stop thinking about that Alex guy and what could possibly be up with him at Sam's home. Is he the babysitter that Sam talked about? Is he Sam's boyfriend? Brother? I have no idea, but I'm hoping that Sam will confide in me if he needs to.

* * *

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